His cheeks were much drier now.

"I’m feeling better now, thanks..."

Even if it felt like he had somehow failed his purpose, Blake surprisingly wasn’t dwelling on it too heavily anymore.

Right now, hearing Myles’ voice was enough to keep his thoughts from sinking further than they already had.

"Put some clothes on."

"Ah?"

"You’re probably still naked."

Blake blinked before awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah... that’s true. I’ll mute for a second, then."

Pressing the button at the bottom of the screen, he put the phone down beside him and stared blankly at the ceiling. His thoughts felt strangely hollow.

On the other side of the line, Myles was still there.

Yet Blake couldn’t hear anything, not even his breathing.

It was strange. Just moments ago, they had been speaking normally, but now the silence almost made it feel like the call had frozen entirely.

’Out of all the things I could’ve done... am I getting too weak-minded lately?’

His brows furrowed faintly.

’What’s with me crying this easily...?’

Then again, the pressure pressing down on him only kept getting worse every day.

And Myles was exactly the type of person who noticed those things immediately.

So how was Blake supposed to stay tense around him?

Naturally, while thinking about Myles, his thoughts drifted toward his friends too.

’I was supposed to go out with Anthony on Monday...’

A quiet sigh escaped him.

’I already postponed it once because I wanted to prepare properly for the mission.’

Which meant he’d have to reschedule again.

And honestly... this time, there was hesitation.

Not because he disliked Anthony.

But because everything surrounding Asher had become painfully unclear lately.

That alone made Blake wonder, had Myles known from the beginning?

’Knowing him... that honestly wouldn’t even surprise me.’

The thought lingered heavily in his chest.

’And if he really does know, then maybe there’s a reason he isn’t acting on it.’

There were probably far too many things at stake, and Blake still didn’t fully understand how Myles viewed the aliens.

Did he consider them family because they shared the same DNA?

If that were true, then of course he wouldn’t move against AL-TECH carelessly. Their entire existence could be hanging in the balance.

Or maybe there were still family members somewhere out there, people he needed to protect.

’His parents are dead, that much is certain.’

Freddie had said Myles was the son of a Delgada.

That could only mean one of his parents had been experimented on.

And then there was the part about him being someone’s nephew, but he had been shot before he could finish explaining.

"Myles, I’m back."

Picking the phone up again, Blake let out a small breath.

"Hm."

Blake stepped out of the bathroom and headed straight toward the temporary room he’d been staying in.

"Are you doing homework?"

"Yeah."

"Can you send me everything you did at school today when you have time?"

"Okay."

Blake climbed onto the bed before pulling the blanket over himself.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, then Blake frowned slightly.

"Myles?"

"What."

"How come I can’t hear you breathing at all?"

A brief silence followed.

"It’s a phone call," Myles answered simply. "People usually can’t hear breathing clearly over one."

He stared at the ceiling for another second before sighing quietly.

"I wanted to hear it, though."

Myles went silent, Blake turned onto his side slowly, curling deeper beneath the blanket.

"I wanted to hear you breathing."

For a moment, there was nothing, then a low hum came from the other side.

"How did you end up with another fever?"

Blake’s eyes narrowed slightly.

’Of course...’

Myles had probably known from the start. It wasn’t like Blake had tried hiding it particularly well, but still...

"It’s just a light fever," he muttered.

His fingers tightened slightly around the blanket.

"I slept without a blanket the other night."

"...."

"And I left the window open too."

Another pause.

Blake could already picture the exact expression Myles probably had right now.

That unimpressed stare.

A yawn escaped him before he could stop it.

"I had really good soup today, though."

His voice had softened around the edges from exhaustion.

"And the room here is nice too. The villa’s way nicer than I expected."

Myles stayed quiet, listening.

"But..."

Blake closed his eyes slowly.

"...I still would’ve preferred eating what you made last time."

The memory settled warmly in his chest. Those kitchen lights and the quiet sounds of his cooking.

Myles standing there with his sleeves rolled up while preparing the soup he liked so much.

"I wanna go back to my own room already, so that you can come and hang out with me." Blake mumbled sleepily, as his breathing gradually steadied afterward.

Little by little, the tension in his body seemed to sink into the mattress beneath him.

Maybe it comforted him enough simply knowing Myles could hear him instead.

Even if Blake himself couldn’t hear anything back.

The call remained connected.

And eventually, night settled fully.

***

On the other side of the line, silence filled Myles’ room.

His chin rested against his hand while the phone lay beside him.

The screen had long dimmed, but he still hadn’t hung up.

He could hear Blake sleeping faintly through the speaker.

His soft breathing, and the occasional rustling against the sheets.

Myles didn’t say anything.

Instead, after some time passed, he picked the phone up again and pressed it closer against his ear.

The moment he did, his brows lowered slightly.

Blake’s breathing had changed. It was faster and uneven.

And with senses sharper than any normal person’s, Myles could hear something else too.

His heartbeat was anxious and restless.

"No..."

Blake’s voice came out weak and strained through the phone.

"No..."

His breathing only worsened afterward, uneven and hurried, like he was trying to run from something inside the dream itself.

Myles stayed completely still.

What exactly was he dreaming about?

What kind of thoughts chased him badly enough to make him sound that desperate?

Just what was going through his head?

The quiet room suddenly felt heavier.

And before Myles realized it, his thoughts drifted somewhere they absolutely shouldn’t have.

Back to that moment, when he kissed Blake.

His jaw ticked faintly.

Everything in his chest had felt wrong that day.

Ominous.

Like standing at the edge of something irreversible.

That was supposed to be the moment he confirmed it once and for all.

That he could turn his back on Blake.

That he could leave him behind without hesitation.

But then Blake looked at him.

Spoke to him, and asked him to stay.

Somehow, Myles couldn’t walk away.

His goal was supposed to be the only thing driving him forward.

The only thing.

Every step he had taken until now was built on old memories and promises carved so deeply into him they practically became instinct.

"You have to do this."

The memory surfaced clearly in his head.

That person crying harshly in front of him, he couldn’t forget it

He had to do this.

He was never supposed to turn back for anyone.

But now...

There was someone he couldn’t simply walk past anymore.

Someone whose voice lingered in his mind long after conversations ended.

Someone whose breathing he sat there listening to in the middle of the night instead of hanging up.

The phone remained pressed lightly against his ear.

Then, he leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze lowering toward the dark screen of his phone.

In his heart, everything felt wrong lately.

Every moment around Blake only made things more complicated.

He had spent years forcing himself forward without looking back.

People suffered.

People died.

And none of that could matter more than his objective.

If he let emotions interfere now, then everything up until this point would become meaningless.

That was what he always told himself.

What he had to keep telling himself.

His mind drifted again.

Back to that memory he buried deep him mind. That voice that was breaking apart from grief.

Myles remembered standing there silently while someone cried in front of him.

He remembered blood, the smell of smoke and hands grabbing tightly onto his shoulders.

His eyes closed briefly.

No matter how many years passed, those words still clung to him.

They became chains.

His reason to continue.

The fuel behind every decision he made afterward.

So why...

Why did everything become uncertain whenever Blake was involved?

Another soft sound came from the phone.

This time Blake sounded calmer.

His breathing slowly began evening out again.

The nightmare was fading.

Myles listened quietly.

And despite himself, his shoulders loosened slightly too.

A faint exhale left him through his nose.

’Ridiculous.’

He should’ve hung up hours ago. One time he even thought of locking him up, but at the time, it was to avoid having anyone interfere with his actions, to see his acting crumble.

But now that wasn’t be something he could do. Instead, he sat there in complete darkness listening to another person sleep.

Listening carefully enough to notice every change in breathing.

Every restless movement.

Every frightened word.

Myles lowered his gaze.

No matter what happened, he still had to do this.

Even if Blake became someone he couldn’t ignore.

Even if looking at him made his chest feel heavier than it should.

Even if walking away no longer seemed simple.

He still had to reach the end.

That much could never change.

Slowly, Myles leaned his head against his hand again, eyes remaining half-lidded in the dark room.

The phone stayed against his ear.

And on the other side of the call, Blake finally slept peacefully again.